Don’t tell me you’re mine.
Don’t tell me you want to take me to that Italian place close to your house.
Don’t tell me you want to plan a road trip with me.
Don’t tell me that I’m amazing.
Don’t tell me that you want to hold my hand.
Don’t tell me that you need me.
Don’t tell me how it felt being with me the other day.
Don’t tell me to never change.
Don’t tell me any of those things. Please, don’t.
Because when you do, I’ll believe you. I’ll believe that you want me just as much as I want you. I’ll believe that it’s real and you’re here to stay.
I’ll show you the darkest parts of me – the one that’s insecure, sad, scared, anxious and maybe a little bit broken. I’ll show you what a puzzle I am. And maybe sometimes, I’ll ask you to help me find a few missing pieces. I will never ask you to fit them in the appropriate places, though. I can do that myself.
When you tell me you want me – I’ll mistake it for you wanting the messed up parts of me, too.
Because I would do the same for you.
I would spend nights loving the broken parts of you – the ones you think no one could ever love. I would spend days standing by you as you mend yourself – giving you a gentle push in case you need one. I would make sure you know you’re loved and valued. I would give everything to us because loving you would be a privilege – something I would never take for granted.
I would write for you. I would write to you. Words hold a lot of meaning for me. So, I would mean it when I tell you I love you.
And I would believe your word, too.
I would let you in my heart.
And among all that, I would forget that for some people ‘I want you for long’ can only mean as long as a few months, that it means that they’d stay until they realize that they don’t want to love you anymore. I would forget that when they tell you they love you just the way you are – they often just mean they love you for all the rational, beautiful and sorted parts of you. I would forget that words are mere combinations of letters and that they could potentially mean nothing to people. I would forget that promises are like delicate glasses that take just a second to break.
I would forget that ‘us’ was temporary for you.
I would fail to notice how, slowly, loving me became less of a natural thing and more of a chore that you got tired of.
If you tell me all those beautiful things –
I would trust you with my heart.
And I’m afraid you wouldn’t know how to hold it.